


Lost on You

by rowofstars



Series: Scars to Show [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hyperion Heights, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold as Detective Weaver, Sex on Furniture, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Wall Sex, Weaver is a huge asshole, Woven Lace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 10:46:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14830838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowofstars/pseuds/rowofstars
Summary: Lacey and Weaver go back to her place to finish what they started at the bar, but the end is not what Lacey expects.





	Lost on You

**Author's Note:**

> Weaver is about to be a huge asshole. I'm sorry. (I'm not...) Also RIP Lacey's IKEA Ingatorp drop leaf table...

Less than a minute after entering the apartment, Lacey once again found herself between Weaver and a wall. 

The few minutes spent in his car to drive the five blocks between Roni’s and her place had been silent and awkward. He’d kept his hand on her knee, and while she kept expecting him to venture further up and under her dress to tease her, he never did. It was soft and sweet and too much like something that might happen on a proper date between two people who actually gave a shit about boundaries and each other.

This, at least, felt familiar.

He raised his hands and cupped her cheeks, brushing her fair skin before sliding down over her jaw, holding her with his fingers wrapped around the back of her neck. His thumbs brushed her mouth, and she breathed hard, feeling her pulse push against his palms. He looked at her, so focused, like he was going to devour her.

She kissed him before he could.

He moved a hand to her hip to steady them both, and pressed her back against the wall right beside the door. She hit with a soft thud, and made a noise as her fingers played with the hair at the back of his neck. The kiss was almost sweet, yielding at first, until she ran her tongue over his teeth. His hand tightened on her hip as he tilted her head. Her lungs started to burn and she sucked in a breath through her nose, scraping her nails against his scalp as she let out a long moan.

He pulled back, and she followed, pushing off the wall, her lips wet and her mouth open.

“Nice place,” he said, smirking as he looked side to side. “Hope the walls are thick.”

She laughed lightly and let her hands run down the front of his shirt, feeling the lean, warm muscle beneath. “The apartment next door is empty, but my landlady lives right below me. She always complains about me walking around in my heels.”

Weaver’s mouth curved crookedly as he moved his hand over her neck, touching her plump bottom lip with his thumb until her lips parted. Her tongue touched him briefly, teasing, and he flashed his teeth. “Well, then she’ll love it when I make you scream.”

Lacey tried to lean forward but the slight pressure of his hand on her neck held her in place. She swallowed, her throat flexing against his palm. It frightened and excited her in equal measure and her legs shifted, pressing her thighs together. She was still wet from their encounter at the bar, her panties soaked through with her juices, pulled from her by his long, sinful fingers.

His hand tightened ever so slightly and he watched as her eyes went wide, her pupils dilating in the low, warm light from the single lamp. Her hips pushed off the wall, arching towards him, and he pushed back, pinning her. He leaned in, running his lips over her jaw and cheek on the way to her ear. “Is that what you want, sweetheart?”

The word makes her eyelids flutter. It’s too soft for him, for them, but it makes her belly clench with desire all the same. Her neck worked against his hand as he spoke, and a liquid warmth pooled between her legs, making her shift her hips into his.

“You wanna fuck me, don’t you, Detective.” It was less a question and more a taunting statement of fact. The friction from his jeans was rough and perfect against her still sensitive pussy, and she plucked at the buttons of his shirt until the top two opened.

Lacey worked her mouth against his neck and the skin she’d exposed, her tongue and teeth drawing the smallest of sounds from his throat. One of her legs came up, hooking around his hip and pulling him into her. His erection had flagged in the wake of leaving Roni’s and driving the short distance to Lacey’s apartment, but her little wiggling movements and her words had him hard and aching in no time. 

“Aye,” he grunted.

She ground against the front of his jeans and he thought about how her scent was already on him, her arousal streaked across the denim where he’d wipe it off his hand. It was a pity he couldn’t have taken the time to suck it off his fingers instead, but he planned to taste her quite thoroughly later, once he’d taken the edge off for both of them. Maybe they’d even make it to the bed.

Or at least the sofa.

The hand on her hip moved to his belt, tugging it open and popping the button of his jeans right after. A ragged breath escaped him as he pulled his zipper down, finally releasing the pressure on his cock.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he hissed, letting his hand slide down over her chest, palming her breast. “I bet you’re still wet for me, aren’t you? Soaking your knickers because I made you come, right there in front of everyone at Roni’s.”

Lacey whimpered and dragged her mouth up his jaw to find his lips again. He met her halfway, his mouth already open, slanting over hers messily. The heat of him and the sharp press of his cock against her core made her throb. Their tongues slid together as his hand worked between them to push his jeans and underwear down, followed by her panties.

The next thing she knew he was lifting her, violently sweeping her feet off the ground and turning them both. Her back hit the wall, her ass was on the small desk next to her door, beside the little basket where she dropped her keys and hair ties when she came home. It was IKEA, cheap, and, surprisingly, the perfect height for getting fucked. She gasped and then grunted with the impact, thinking about how she would have a double set of bruises in the morning: a set on her hips where he was now digging in with his fingers to hold her, the other lower, between her thighs where their bodies met. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him close, and their eyes locked. Her gaze darted to his mouth, but he didn’t kiss her; instead he dropped his head to her chest and rested his forehead there, breathing a few seconds before he drew back. 

His cock pushed against her soft, velvet heat, sliding over her pussy, toying with her. He propped himself up over her, bracing on the narrow table and watching her cheeks flush deeper with every stroke over her wet slit. Only the necessity of a condom made him stop, momentarily, but when he finally sank into her, seating himself deep, he could feel her body pulling at him. She moaned and grabbed at him with her hand as he drew out slowly. He made himself stop again, keeping just the head of his cock inside her, teasing them both as he licked at her mouth. 

Her lips opened wider and her head tipped up, thinking he was going to kiss her again, but he didn’t. The way she responded to him so easily when they were together, verbally when they were fighting and physically when they were like this was intoxicating. He moved just enough to press inside her and feel her stretch around him only to retreat again. After a few of these short, almost gentle thrusts, she was writhing in need and lifting her legs up around his waist.

“ _Fuck me_ , you bastard,” Lacey demanded. Heat coursed in her veins, making her feel sweaty and feverish.

Weaver’s hand moved to her hip, pulling her in as she wrapped herself around him. She scraped her teeth along his throat, and he liked that entirely too much, the slight feeling of vulnerability. She could bite him, tear into him and ruin him, in more ways than one, and he was growing increasingly terrified that he might let her. 

When she nipped lightly, he bucked his hips into hers, hard, making her cry out in pleasure. He set a steady, almost punishing rhythm, angling her hips to thrust deep into her, drawing sweet mewls from her lips. She felt stretched and full, his hardness pushing against the same spot he’d found with his fingers over and over.

This is what she wanted, for all his intensity and persistence to be focused on her.

“ _Fuck..._ ,” she whined, arching her back as she tried to keep pace with him. 

The slim table wobbled and thumped against the wall, and she watched him, panting through parted, kiss-swollen lips. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her flush against him and sending a jolt of pleasure through her body. His hands slipped under her dress and up her bare back, his palms cool compared to the heat of her skin. She closed her eyes and kissed him at the base of his throat, mouth open and hot, her hips moving against his as her body neared its peak. 

She clenched her pussy deliberately, drawing a strangled groan from his throat. His mind was fuzzy, high on pleasure, and he could feel warmth pooling in his gut. Every roll of his hips became more frantic, needing her to come first. He could feel her fluttering around him, her cunt desperately pulling at his cock, but he knew she needed a little more.

Lacey gasped and tightened her grip on Weaver’s shoulders, wincing as her back skidded along the plaster. His hands were hard on her hips, thumbs digging into her skin as the table thumped hard against the wall. He moved his hand and wiggled it between them, his rough knuckles rubbing her clit on every stroke. A frisson of pleasure shot through her, making her shiver and whimper, her thighs squeezing his waist. Her heels dug into his lower back and she could feel one about to slip off. She moved her foot to try to catch it, but the thought was quickly dispelled by the sharp movement of him inside her, a deep and deliberate rhythm stuttering into desperation as they both pushed closer to the edge.

She cried out, her hands clinging to his shoulders as her whole body tightened around him. Her orgasm made her feel heavy and warm and dizzy all at once. She felt herself gush around his cock, everything sticky and hot, and a final low moan escaped her lips.

Weaver groaned softly as the last hard squeezes of her pussy pulled him into his release. His breath caught as he came, forcing his cock as deep as he could. He pulsed inside her and then sagged, sighing heavily and pinning her between his body and the wall. They stayed like that for a moment, with his breath warm and moist on her neck and her hand stroking his hair. 

Just as he started to straighten, the table gave a final creak and collapsed under them. On instinct, he grabbed her legs, trying to hold her up. At the same time Lacey threw herself at him, sensing the loss of stability beneath her. She grunted as her back hit the wall for what felt like the tenth time that day, and this time she knew she’d probably have a bad bruise.

“Ow! Fuck!”

He winced and moved back carefully, letting her get her legs under her. “Shit,” he muttered looking down at the shattered table. One leg had given way and snapped to the side, pulling pegs and glue with it and leaving jagged splinters behind. “Sorry.”

Lacey stepped over and away from the debris, letting her skirt fall over her bare ass.“What the fuck was that?” She shot him a glare and he shrugged, then bent to pull up his jeans.

“Looks like a cheap piece of shit,” he said, kicking the busted table leg with his boot.

She folded her arms and huffed. “That was from IKEA!”

Weaver snorted and yanked up his zipper. “Like I said.”

She scowled some more and poked a wayward screw, rolling it back and forth on the floor with the toe of one blue patent leather heel. “Fuck.”

He moved close and ran his hands down her arms. “Never broke a piece of furniture before. At least not doing that.”

She looked up at him, finding a crooked smile, familiar dark eyes, and a look she was never quite sure of. It felt like there was something there, shining just in the corner...

Then he bent and kissed the corner of her mouth before he brushed past her, feeling his phone start to vibrate. He pulled it out of his jacket pocket and frowned at the caller ID on the screen before putting it to his ear.

“Weaver.”

Lacey watched as he paced and talked. It was Rogers; something about a warehouse and a cargo container was all she overheard.

“Fuck,” he muttered, shoving the phone back in his pocket as he turned to face her. “Party’s over.”

She shook her head, her stomach sinking as she realized he was about to leave. “What?”

“Dead body in a warehouse,” he said with a shrug, as if that was all the explanation required.

“Get someone else to go,” she countered. “Don’t they have people on call for that kind of stuff?”

He nodded and crossed to her. “Yeah, but it’s Belfry’s warehouse.”

She swallowed. “Oh.”

Her eyes met his, looking almost hurt or rejected, so he gave her a tight smile, the left side of his mouth curving just a little more than the right. He bumped the pad of his thumb against her chin, a brush that was too tender for the moment, and her bottom lip poked out in a pout. Suddenly he didn’t want to leave. He shouldn’t have needed that soft little moue of hers, or those bright, laughing blue eyes, or the slick heat of her pussy around his cock so badly, but he did, and it was becoming a problem. 

His left hand fisted at his side as he moved to the door and opened it. “Thanks for the shag.”

Lacey turned away from him as her eyes welled up with tears. A moment later, she heard the thud of the door as it closed, and she turned to flip the deadbolt. She looked around the room, most of it just as it was before she left for Roni’s, save for her former table. It’s almost like it never even happened. 

But the ache in her legs and the lingering flush to her skin said otherwise.


End file.
